


they echoed his refrain

by bluesandbirds



Series: do you hear the people sing? [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dream Smp, Gen, Revolution, The Festival, Villain Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Wilbur Soot, i think this counts as canon divergence?, l'manburg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26984755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesandbirds/pseuds/bluesandbirds
Summary: Rebelling is easy, young man, convincing your older brother figure to not blow up the place you fought for and all your friends with it is harder.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: do you hear the people sing? [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971895
Comments: 48
Kudos: 369





	1. chant ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 100% inspired by chant (reprise) from hadestown  
> this is a direct continuation of "who are they to say what the truth is anyway" so pls read that first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bear in mind, i'm really not sure about the pvp skills of a lot of these people, so the match ups might be very strange. i tried to consider like, what armor certain people might have and how that would affect their ability to fight. also,, i have no idea how wilbur's tnt thing works. idk i did my best, enjoy!

Even outgunned and outmanned, Schlatt smirks.

" _Young man, gotta hand it to_ you." He claps mockingly. " _Guess you don't scare easy do you? Are you brave or stupid, son?"_ He leans in to whisper directly to Tommy's glaring face. _"Doesn't matter which one."_

Eret and Niki step in, blocking him from moving closer. He scoffs. _"_ '' _Cause it seems your words made quite a strong impression on my Vice."_ He gestures to Quackity who flinches under the man's attention. His eyes scan the face of each person standing opposite to him before connecting with Tommy's again. " _But it takes more than pretty words to keep a country moving forwards."_

He snaps his fingers. George, Sapnap, and Punz raise their weapons.

From behind the rebels, Skeppy, BadBoyHalo, Ponk, and Karl step out.

Tommy gets tugged in closer to the group. They face outwards towards their enemies.

Before anybody moves, an arrow from a far direction skims the shoulder of the president's suit jacket.

(In the split second before chaos breaks out, Tommy swears he can see a pink figure in the tree line.)

With that shot, the riot starts.

The clashing of blades fills the festival grounds.

Punz lunges for Tommy but is blocked by HBomb and Awesamdude.

Niki charges GeorgeNotFound with an air that promises pain.

Before Tommy can react, Schlatt tackles him. They tumble to the ground.

Normally, Tommy could easily overpower the other man, but Schlatt is wild—flailing limbs and erratic movements—and Tommy has been subsisting on a diet mainly of potatoes since the exile.

Schlatt pins him. He leans in, breath hot on Tommy’s face. His eyes are wide and unfocused.

 _“Take it from a man no longer young._ _If you want to run a country, son._ _Hang a chain around its throat._ _Made of many carat gold."_

"Get off me you fucking nut." Tommy kicks out, knocking back the older man. He manages one gasp before Schlatt is on him again.

 _"_ _Shackle it from wrist to wrist._ _With sterling silver bracelets."_

"Shut the fuck up."

He bats away Tommy's hands, wrapping his own around the boy's throat. As he does this, Schlatt doesn't stop his prattering. _"Fill its pockets full of stones._ _Precious ones, diamonds._ _Bind it with a golden band."_ He stares Tommy dead in the eyes and starts to squeeze. " _Take it from an old man."_

(If I raise my voice)

The air hisses as BadBoyHalo's axe meets Jack's sword. Puffs of steam arise as hot netherite collides with cool diamond. 

BadBoyHalo, with a better weapon and years more experience quickly gains the upper hand.

Jack grits his teeth, struggling to keep his shield up against the heavy blows.

Suddenly, the assault stops.

Jack cautiously lowers his shield to see Purpled fending off BadBoyHalo with his own axe and shield.

He grins and dives into the fray.

(If I raise my head)

_"Eret_ , _h_ _elp,"_ Quackity screeches, barreling towards the man, pursued by Ponk and Karl.

The king swings around, taking down an unarmored Karl with a hilt to the head.

He turns Ponk whose only protection is a pair of diamond boots. Eret tilts his head down, glaring white eyes just barely visible behind dark shades.

The other man backs up, hands raised in surrender. 

Eret smirks. He tosses a netherite pickaxe to Quackity who brandishes it purposefully.

"Up with the revolution, boys. It was always meant to be."

(Could I change my fate?)

Sapnap and Fundy circle each other on the battlefield.

"So, here we are once more," Fundy says.

Sapnap tosses his sword back and forth between his hands. "Are you ready to lose again?" He twirls it around in a flourish. 

Fundy narrows his eyes and levels his blade. "I'm ready for redemption."

**Could I change the way it is?**

Black spots dance in Tommy's vision. 

_This is it,_ he thinks, _strangled to death by a crazy old dude. It could have been Dream on the prime path, but instead it's Jschlatt next to the LMFAO._

But fate has other things in store for Tommy, because he feels something crash into the weight on his body before it disappears entirely.

He gasps for breath, shooting up into a sitting position. One hand moves up to rub at his neck. He opens his eyes and there, outlined by the setting sun like some guardian angel, is his Tubbo.

"Sorry, Mr. President," Tubbo says, standing over his former boss, "But I'm going to have to show you the door."

Tommy looks over at the body on the ground. "Tubbo, he's unconscious."

"Shh, let me have this."

A slightly hysterical laugh leaves Tommy's lips.

(Why do we turn away instead of standing with him?)

George has Niki cornered. Her sword lies on the ground a few feet away.

He backs her up towards the dunk tank.

"I'll admit, you're not bad," George says, "But you haven't had the practice that I have."

He swings and her shield splinters under the blow.

Niki ducks under his next swing. His sword smashes into the glass, water bursting free from the tank.

She takes this chance to race towards her sword, but the slick mud underneath her boots brings her to the ground.

She turns over in time to see a soaking GeorgeNotFound advancing towards her.

"Niki!" someone cries. 

In an arc of shimmering purple, a sword flies towards her hand.

She snatches the gift and brings it in front of her.

George whips around. "Antfrost? You were supposed to be on our side."

"Sorry, Gogy," the man says, shrugging apologetically. He locks eyes with Niki on the ground. "But true friends have each other's backs."

She smiles back.

(Why are we digging our own graves for a living?)

Callahan and Alyssa take on Skeppy.

The battle isn't going in their favor with Alyssa knocked to the side and Callahan barely dodging Skeppy's hits.

Suddenly, Callahn smirks.

"What?" Skeppy says.

Over his shoulder, Eret marches towards them with Quackity in tow.

(If we're free, tell me why, we can't even stand upright?)

Tubbo grabs Tommy by the shoulders, heaving him up with surprising strength.

"You need to stop Wilbur," he says, face solemn.

"I don't know where he is."

"He didn't give you any clues? Any cryptic warnings or vague, unsettling monologues?"

Tommy has a thought. "Tubbo, what's underneath the stage?"

"Just storage. Extra chairs and decorations."

"That's it."

Tubbo nods. "Go now, before Wilbur does something we'll all regret."

Tommy looks around at his friends fighting for their lives, fighting for his. "But—"

"Tommy! Go!"

(Tell me when we can stand with our fellow man.)

"Wilbur!"

The man turns around over-exaggerated shock painted across his face.

"TommyInnit? Fancy seeing you here."

Tommy looks around cautiously. "Where're Dream and Techno?"

Wilbur shrugs. "Around. Terrorizing children and planting potatoes, you know how it is."

He takes a small step forward, eyes trailing over the precariously rigged TNT and haphazard lines of redstone.

"Will, please," he begs, "you gotta stop this. You know it isn't right."

Wilbur laughs. It's not the warm, familiar chuckle that brought a smile to Tommy's lips. It's not even the high, uncontrolled howl that made Tommy snicker along. It's an ugly, derisive sound. The one typically paired with biting comments about being _a child,_ and _a gremlin_ , and _unloved, unwanted, unworthy_.

 _"Young man, I was young once too._ _Sang a song of hope like you. Son, I too, was left behind."_

"You keep saying it's all gone. That we've been abandoned and L'Manburg is over, but it's not." He throws out a hand. "There are people out there who are fighting for it, for us."

 _"Turned on one too many_ times," he retorts.

Tommy fires back, tears burning at his eyes. "You said once that L'Manburg couldn't die as long as we still believed. I still believe. They still believe. Why don't you?"

Wilbur waves dismissively. _"Now I sing a different song._ _One I can depend upon._ _A simple tune, a steady beat."_ He spins, gesturing all around at his redstone contraption. " _The music of machinery."_ He brings a hand to his ear. " _You hear that heavy piston sound?_ _The symphony of Jschlatt's town._ _And in this symphony of mine._ _Of TNT and redstone lines."_ Wilbur steps towards Tommy, danger glinting in his eyes. " _Young man, you can be the liar._ _I have laid this town with wire._ _Young man, you can tell your stories."_ He throws his arms out. " _ **I'll go down in a blaze of glory!** "_

Tommy stares at the person in front of him, horrified.

He'd always seen it, the monster bleeding through the cracks in the man. It was things he dismissed as stress or sleep-deprivation that now seem to be shades of Wilbur's true colors. It's clear to him now that the ex-president of L'Manburg is more monster than anything else.

Or maybe...

_"My right hand man: TommyInnit!"_

_"Tommy, I'm so fucking proud of you, bro."_

_"TommyInnit, I am a slow-burning fuse. I am a long, slow-burning fuse, but I'm telling you now, over the next couple weeks, I—I am gonna be a different man than the one that Jschlatt crossed. I can feel it."_

_"Am I the villain in your history?"_

Maybe Wilbur has always been more man than anything else.

And that is his downfall.

" _I'll tell you what young man,_ I'm feeling sentimental," Wilbur says. He throws his words out carelessly and wildly. "So, how about—since I'm gonna count to three and put us all out of our misery—you give me one more story. One more story from my right-hand man, good ol' Tommy Trusty. One last time before we go. Before I teach us _all_ to say goodbye." He smiles and he almost looks like he did before home was nowhere and life was war. "Make me laugh. Make me weep. Make the president feel young again."

Cold brown eyes meet glassy blue.

_"Speak, for an old man."_


	2. epic iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ________ in a box, what will _he_ do?

Once, Tommy weaseled his way into being a judge. Once, Tommy convinced two people to drown with him. Tommy's talked his way out of hell and talked his way back in. But what words, what turns of phrase will knock the chip off this madman's shoulder?

Wilbur makes a show of tapping an invisible watch. "Bomb's a-ticking."

Tommy opens and closes his mouth. "Once upon a time..." he tries.

He snorts. "Trite."

"I don't know what that means," he shoots back. "There once was a man..."

"And he was the president but then he went crazy and now needs to be stopped?"

Frustrated tears fill his eyes. "It all started on a day like any other."

There's a flicker of shimmering midnight in his peripherals. Dream stands in the corner behind Wilbur, head tilted in interest.

Tommy takes a breath. "All the carrots were grown in my farm." He pauses and swallows. "And—and _my brother_ he came with a hope and a dream of a country... for you and for me."

Tommy thinks of Wilbur in a sweater and a beanie, ruffling his hair and asking him if this is as good as it gets. If he was happy with living under Dream's thumb and crossbow. He remembers staring up with wide, naive eyes and shaking his head.

He gains volume. " _We built some walls with our own bare hands. Through the wind and the rain and the_ _shit_."

Tommy thinks of sweat rolling down his forehead, the unforgiving sun beating his back, and satisfaction deep in his gut. Tubbo next to him, staring up at proud blackstone that would go on to protect their noble, little country.

 _"And we swore that we'd keep an unwavering faith in the land that we made for a home_."

Tommy thinks of standing on the roof of the Camarvan next to his friends—his brothers. The wind in their hair, faces split by grins, the knowledge that they were writing history sitting at the front of their minds.

Tears overflow, cutting their way down his cheeks. "That man—my brother—said that L'Manburg couldn't fall as long as we kept its fire burning in our hearts."

He looks at Wilbur. Takes in the trenchcoat and callous smile.

"So where is it? _Where is the treasure inside of your chest? "_ he spits out, " _Where is your pleasure?_ _Where is your_ _youth_? _Where is the man with his arms outstretched?"_

Tommy thinks of a jukebox in the water and a warm arm over his shoulders.

 _"Who stands in_ L'Manburg _. With nothing to lose."_ The words hang in the air between them. 

" _Singing..."_ His voice comes out quiet and raspy.

Tommy inhales.

_"It's L'Manburg."_

Wilbur shakes his head, laughs a little crazy and unsteady.

"It's L'Manburg." He sings with none of Wilbur's pleasant timbre, but the line is raw with emotion.

Wilbur backs up.

Tommy steps closer.

"It's L'Manburg."

The man keeps moving backwards, but Tommy matches his every step.

Wilbur speaks, hands gesturing with frantic energy. "You think some nostalgic little tune will change my mind? That's not how this works, Tommy, this isn't a musical," he cries, "There's no reprise, no curtain call, nothing is going to make me change my mind."

His back hits the wall.

Tommy stares up, determined blue meeting manic brown eyes.

 _"Our_ L'Manburg."

They stare each other down, fists clenching and breaths quick.

Wilbur lifts his chin. "That was cute, but it's not going to stop me from running over that hill and pressing that button."

"Fine."

(And Tommy imagines death so much it feels more like a memory.)

With speed gained from years of practice, Tommy takes a few steps back and slams down blocks, boxing himself in an obsidian prison. He leaves a gap where he can stare directly at Wilbur. 

"If you want to blow up L'Manburg," Tommy says, eyes burning. "Then you're going to have to take me down with it."

Wilbur rolls his eyes. "Tommy, you're being stupid, get out of there."

"I can't," he says, "Don't have a pickaxe."

He pauses. "You're bluffing."

"Not today. Not about this."

"You don't want to die."

Tommy sniffs. "No, Wilbur," he says, "I really don't."

Wilbur stares at him, mouth parted and eyes wide. " _Why?_ " he says, "Why do you have to make this so hard for me?"

"Because you're being a moron."

"You—you— _you child_."

"Real original, big man."

He throws his arms up. "You come in here singing about hope and morality and expect me to listen to you? You're a child and you're emotional and you think just because I lo—just because you were my right-hand man, you have some sort of control over me. You don't. You were never in charge, Tommy."

This again. "I don't want to be in charge. I want my home back."

"It's gone, Tommy, it's all gone. Your home is gone and I would be a bad br—president if I let you continue to think otherwise."

"If that's true then why am I here and not there? Not warning or evacuating people, but here, begging you not to kill us all."

"Because you're stupid and sentimental and _weak_."

Tommy shakes his head. "You don't want to do this."

Wilbur laughs and this time it's a sad, sad sound. "On the contrary, TommyInnit, I've never wanted to do something more."

"I believe that you want to blow L'Manburg, but you don't want to kill me. And you don't want to kill our friends."

He scoffs. "What friends? We've been betrayed by literally everyone."

"That's bullshit," Tommy shouts, "Niki is outside leading a rebellion. Tubbo, Purpled, Jack, _and even fucking Eret_ are all there. Quackity stood up for me. _Fundy_ is there. Your son. The one you took in. The one you thought betrayed you. He's there, fighting against Jschlatt and his goons for _L'Manburg_."

Wilbur opens his mouth. "I—I don't..."

"If you truly think it's gone. Then you'll have no problem leaving me here, leaving them outside, and pushing that button."

"I..." A hand rubs over Wilbur's face. "Tommy, _fuck. Why do you have to make this so hard?"_ The older man looks at him. "You really believe, don't you?"

"Yes," he says, "I do. And not just in L'Manburg. In you too."

Sad brown eyes meet hopeful blue.

"Dream," Wilbur calls, "get Tommy out of this fucking obsidian box."

The man in question steps out from the shadows, netherite gleaming.

Tommy eyes the two cautiously. "Will, what are you planning to do?"

"I am... going to find wherever the fuck I left that button and... " Wilbur sighs. "...break it."

Tommy gapes. Shards of obsidian shower down around him. He doesn't even notice Dream's hands tugging him out of the now broken prison.

"Yeah?"

Wilbur nods. "Yeah."

A smile spreads across his face. "Okay, where the fuck is that button?"

"About that..." says a voice to his right.

Dream holds a hand out to him. In his palm is a broken button. 

"Wha—?" Tommy looks at the man.

 _"If there isn't L'Manburg, then what's the point in this server?"_ he echoes.

Tommy stares. "You..."

Dream shrugs. "Thousand IQ moment."

Wilbur blows out a breath. "I'm not even surprised."

"You're not gonna freak out on us, are you?"

Wilbur puts a hand on his shoulder. "Tommy, I was wrong, when I said that we were the bad guys. You've always been... the hero. And I... I don't want to be the villain in your history."

He withdraws his hand and gazes around at the dark space. The hanging TNT and the zigzagging redstone. The festive banners and stacked chairs.

"But today, I—I nearly blew this place up. I nearly killed all our friends and family." He looks at Tommy. "I nearly killed you."

He stares down at his hands and curls them into fists.

"Where do I go from here? What do I do?"

Tommy looks at his brother, slumped shoulders and bowed head. He reaches out.

"You take me home with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _TommyInnit was a young boy, but he had a gift to give: he could make you see how the world could be, in spite of the way that it is._
> 
> inspired by epic iii from hadestown (but im sure you expected that by this point) and also ode to l'manburg by beetlebug (on youtube and spotify)  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> damn that festival stream. everyone tommy brought to the server is just taking turns stabbing him in the back with the same knife. at this point, i’m just waiting for ninja’s villain arc.  
> anyways, hope you enjoyed! as always, comments, kudos, and bookmarks are super appreciated, even if you have nothing to say, feel free to drop a pogchamp in the comments.


End file.
